


Light Our Way With Hellfire

by bxwibxwi



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Blood, Gen, but like, hyunjin gets hurt a lot, jisung has mutiple existential crises, not really - Freeform, not super bad but i wanna let yall know, really loose definition of enemies to lovers, semi-graphic depictions of torture??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 01:45:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17091770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bxwibxwi/pseuds/bxwibxwi
Summary: Jisung is, by all modern definition, an incendiary.Hyunjin has no hate left to give.There is too much blood on the prison floor, and Jisung has to ask himself what all of this is worth.





	Light Our Way With Hellfire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [placebo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/placebo/gifts).



> So! as I said in the tags, this story contains several instances of torture, but I don't consider it to go into graphic detail. if it concerns you, please let me know and I'll update the tags and/or warnings accordingly. 
> 
> Other warnings include: A fair amount of blood, swearing
> 
> to hwallaby! hope you like it my guy slytherin jisung is for you

 

 

 

 _He was far too young,_ they would cry, _far too young for this!_

Hyunjin wasn’t inclined to agree. He would much rather be stuck in a cold dungeon when he was still young and had working joints than old and arthritic. Besides, it’s not like anyone else was stepping up to take his place.

He draws his thin blanket tighter around his shoulders. If his captors don’t kill him, the cold surely will. Winter had set in long before he arrived, but no one else has seemed to notice.

 

~~~~

 

Jisung only comes down to the dungeon for two reasons; to escape, or to make sure the guy imprisoned down here isn’t dead.

It’s fucking depressing, being down here. It’s all dark and cold and quiet and he hates it. He remembers when the rooms of this castle used to hold classes, well-lit by candles and students’ laughter. Now, as far as he knows, there’s only one soul down here, and Jisung can hardly bear to confront him.

In private, Jisung will laugh. The history books will hail his name as one of the daring few who had dared to use magic against his own brethren. Whether or not they’ll say his name with fear or awe has yet to be decided, he hasn’t killed anyone yet.

He spits on the ground. He’s spent the past three months in a castle that hates his presence. The others ignore it, but he’s one of the few who’s seen it lived in, used for its purpose. Hogwarts was never meant to be a fortress.

Ah, well. It would be returned soon enough, as soon as they got what they needed.

What they need, exactly, is still a bit of a mystery. But that’s not Jisung’s business. He’s only seventeen, after all, and far too young for such things.

 

~~~~

 

Some days, it’s only the knocking at the door that keeps Hyunjin sane.

It’s always the same kid, about his age. Hyunjin recognizes him from classes. He had hated him at first, this was an enemy, a _traitor_. But Hyunjin doesn’t really have the energy to hate anymore, and neither does the other boy. Jisung was his name. Hyunjin couldn’t remember it, even though they had been in the same year.

On days when Hyunjin has the energy to speak, he’ll ask Jisung questions when the other brings him food. It’s not like he gets straight answers anymore. The one time he had asked Jisung for his name, the other had disappeared for three days after telling him. When Jisung showed up again, he had a black eye and was much more tight-lipped.

 

~~~~

 

As the youngest, Jisung had been placed on guard duty. It’s not like they really needed a guard, but their prisoner seemed to have a way of working around spells and they needed to give Jisung something to do. The day before Jisung had been given this new task, Hyunjin had performed some very skillful magic and had almost succeeded in getting out. It was actually quite impressive, and the others in his band seemed to think so as well.

The screams that came from the dungeon the next day could be heard all through the first-floor halls and they still haunt Jisung at night, but to any outsider, no one would know.

Hyunjin didn’t try to escape again, after that.

 

~~~~

 

The first few days, Hyunjin would laugh and ask them why they were so desperate, to be asking him of all people where his leader was.

 _How would I know?_ he would reply, _You knocked me out before I could see where they went. Why don’t you let me out? I’ll go find him and ask._

He’s sure he said some other clever things. He wishes he could remember them, Felix would be proud, but the pain blacks out a lot of the memories. Maybe it’s a good thing, who knows.

One thing Hyunjin does remember is a curse he’d never heard before. They didn’t teach it in school and he definitely understands why, every time his bones are ripped apart in agony he asks God why anyone would want to invent something like _Crucio, Crucio, Crucio._

 

~~~~

 

Jisung curses his own hot-bloodedness for bringing him here and his cowardice for staying, because anyone that would hurt someone like this did not deserve his loyalty or his life.

He avoids punishment for treating Hyunjin’s wounds by telling the others that their prisoner would die if he didn’t. As Jisung uses his wand to trace careful stitches along the awful cuts in Hyunjin’s side, the other asks him with slurred words what curse was used to do it.

 _Sectumsempra_ , Jisung would answer, trying not to think of how far gone the other must be to not remember the very spell that’s causing him to bleed out.

Hyunjin laughs, a soft, weak sound, and says something like, “Minho would like that one.” Jisung doesn’t get a chance to ask who Minho is before Hyunjin passes out from blood loss and Jisung is left cursing alone in the dark, because if this prisoner dies on his watch, so does he.

 

~~~~

 

Hyunjin hasn’t seen anyone other than Jisung in days. He wonders if the others have found his friends yet. He doesn’t think so, or he’d have more company in prison, he tells himself. They wouldn’t kill on sight, right?

Jisung tells him nothing, but Hyunjin can see the dark circles under his eyes even in the dark and the sunkenness of his cheeks. Hyunjin makes a weak attempt at a joke, asking if they’re feeding him more than Jisung, when the other slides a plate of food towards him and answers, “You’re the valuable one, aren’t you?”

Hyunjin doesn’t know if the bitterness is directed at him or Jisung himself, but he snorts. “Eat, then,” he replies, tossing a piece of dry bread at the other despite his own weakness.

Jisung blinks in surprise. “Don’t be stupid,” he hisses, throwing it back at Hyunjin, leaving before the other can reply.

 

~~~~

 

He had been naive.

Jisung would not deny the fact that he was, by all modern definition, an incendiary. The world he was in was not perfect by any means and while he wished that everyone would just spill their feelings and talk everything out, he was not satisfied with that taking several hundred years to happen.

So when his people asked him to join, he did. When they asked for things, he gave them. Hell, even when they attacked his school, he had been the one to let them in.

(He’d never quite hated himself so much as he had at that moment, but he tries to forget it.)

They’ve imprisoned themselves in this castle, under siege from the Ministry in a cold war for victory. He asks his leader how long they’ll be here, and every day it’s the same answer, _until our demands are met._

Every day his sense of unease grows. The castle is dark, the candles refusing to light themselves. The hallways that Jisung had once known like the back of his hand now change to new routes he had never seen. The house-elves have long since fled, and they’ve been reduced to handing out rations.

At night, when Jisung tries to sleep, all he hears are the ghosts yelling in their bone-chilling song, _traitor, traitor!_

He knows these are directed at him.

At night, the only thoughts that plague his mind are those of Hyunjin, whose screams ring in his ears long after they have been silenced. Jisung can’t comprehend it, that his enemy is someone who smiles at him when he arrives and sings songs to himself to pass the time. Hyunjin is kind to Jisung despite how he is treated and he is loyal to his cause. Are these not traits that should be admired, rather than punished?

 _You would know_ , whispers the voice in his head, _how much loyalty should be prized, right?_

_Traitor, traitor, traitor._

Weeks have passed and in a moment of weakness, Jisung approaches his leader. He doesn’t know if he’s seeking some sort of internal redemption or not but goddamn, he can’t keep his mouth shut.

Jisung takes a breath, focusing on the still atmosphere around him to keep the stutter out of his voice. “You haven’t asked for the prisoner in some time,” he tries, approaching a cloaked figure in one of the towers staring solemnly out of a window.

All he can see is the black hair cascading down the back of the woman before him, but he can sense the tenseness in her shoulders. Her voice is soft, commanding. “Your point?” she asks after several moments of silence.

Jisung straightens his posture. “You have gotten all of the information he has, yes? He never knew much to begin with,” his voice is smooth, reasonable. “The Ministry has offered rewards for his return.”

Blue eyes pierce his own. “What are you suggesting, young Slytherin?” the woman turns to him, voice low.

Jisung clears his throat. “I think we should let him go.”

A few moments pass, still and deafening in their silence. Jisung has the naivety to think he may have succeeded.

A sharp crack silences him, and it takes him a moment to realize he’s been slapped.

“Let him go?” The woman stares at him in contempt. “He has told us nothing. He is all we have left, Jisung,” her eyes narrow. “Has he been talking to you? For a Hufflepuff, he has a smooth tongue. Do not trust anything he says.”

Jisung resists the urge to wipe away the blood dripping from his split lip, his heart clenching in fear at the thought of losing his only link to Hyunjin. “No, Madam, it’s not like he could say anything, he’s-” he stops, cutting himself off.

Madam Sela turns back to the window. “You talk about things of which you have no knowledge. I appreciate your humanity, Jisung, but now is not the time.” She pauses. “I must know if I can still trust you. Is your heart strong? Your blood still pure for our cause?”

There’s only one answer to that question. “Of course, madam,” Jisung says.

Jisung isn’t stupid enough to leave without being dismissed. Sela lets out a long sigh, standing quiet for several moments. Jisung’s skin itches and he ignores the urge to move, or speak, or mess anything up in general, really.

After several minutes of silence, Sela speaks. “Do you know why we take prisoners, Jisung?”

Jisung blinks. “Because we’re not killers.” Another easy answer.

Sela sighs again. “Come here.”

Jisung complies, moving to stand a pace away from his leader, a few inches away from the window.

Sela still doesn’t look at him. “You must accept that we have enemies,” she says.

This puzzles him. “I don’t understand,” he says, “of course we have enemies. I have more enemies than friends. We’re anticipating a battle as we speak.”

“But does that get through to you?” Sela’s blue eyes finally pierce his. “Do you realize that the opposite side is against you? They are an obstacle, a force in the way of our goals.”

Jisung’s gut tells him what she’s implying.

Sela’s gaze turns cold and she grabs Jisung’s arm, her nails digging into his skin under his robe. “The boy in the dungeon made his choice, and we made ours, Jisung.” Her hand reaches up to wipe the few drops of blood dripping from Jisung’s nose. “We must break him. I must break him. They need to see him broken, so we can gain the respect we deserve.” She releases her hold on his arm and turns back toward the window. “I hope that can make sense to you.”

Jisung says nothing. His mind is racing, comparing everything he knows with everything being said and deciding he doesn’t like the result. He takes Sela’s words as his dismissal and turns to leave.

Sela lets him go, but not before saying one final thing. “I hope you have made the right choice as well, Jisung,” she calls after him.

Jisung doesn’t answer as he slips through the doors and away from those blue eyes. Those damned eyes, this damned castle, this damned cause.

 

~~~~

 

There isn’t a whole lot to do in a cell.

Hyunjin’s tried everything. Making up stories, counting the bricks on the walls, even bleeding out a few times. As enjoyable as _that_ had been, he’s not really striving for a repeat experience.

He’s run out of things to think about. Singing songs doesn’t help, that only reminds him of Seungmin. Running spells in his head so he doesn’t forget them doesn’t help, because then he’s thinking of Chan, and then he’s thinking of all the possible scenarios his friends could be in and he can’t stop his thoughts from hissing _they’re all dead._

It’s so dark down here. It’s so fucking dark he can’t distinguish whether his eyes are open or closed and most days (nights?) he doesn’t have the mental capacity to tell if he’s asleep or awake. When he does sleep, his dreams are saturated with fear and he can’t tell if the screaming is his own or that of his friends.

So, as a marvelous solution, he doesn’t sleep. But he can’t stay awake all the time either, and that leaves him in this strange half-conscious dream state a lot of the time.

Every time his eyes close there’s a knock on the door. Every time, they drag him back to that god-awful woman with blue eyes and she smiles. Every time, she shouts questions at him and Hyunjin can do nothing but sob and scream _I don’t know, I don’t know,_ when her wand traces his body and lights his bones on fire.

Some evil part of Hyunjin wishes he knew where his friends were, what they were doing, because maybe it would make her stop.

“You would have given them up so easily?” the woman croons, leaning down so her breath is hot on Hyunjin’s ear. “Look at you. So weak. A little pain, and you’re already giving up. What would it take to really break you?”

Hyunjin is choking on his own blood, eyes rolled up into the back of his head as he fights for oxygen. The woman rises, stepping away from him and Hyunjin’s done this enough to know what’s coming.

There’s a knock at the door and the hinges creak, and suddenly there’s hands at Hyunjin’s wrists and he’s sobbing _don’t hurt me_ as his back is lifted off of the floor.

“Hyunjin?” a voice says, but it’s not the woman’s. It’s much lower, much kinder, and the hands that wipe the tears from his cheeks are soft.

“Hyunjin,” Jisung says again, and Hyunjin doesn’t let go of Jisung until the light from the other’s wand has all but gone out.

 

~~~~

 

Jisung cries that night, with Hyunjin.

Their tears mingle together, terror and pain and sorrow coalescing into a misery only comforted by the presence of a friend. They become each other’s companion, a mutual understanding reached but never spoken.

To be left alone is madness, and it is there that Jisung’s pride is split by shame and he pleads to the broken one for forgiveness, long after the other slips into an exhausted unconsciousness.

In the darkness, they are both prisoners.

 

~~~~

 

Days later, they drag Hyunjin out again. He does not cry, but his hands tremble as their wands are raised. His mouth is numb from pleading his ignorance. His hands are chained, iron weaved by spells holding him to the wall.

His spirit is drained. He has nothing left to give.

He can look across the room, and he sees Jisung. Jisung, whose voice he had only ever heard in darkness or face seen in half-light, is brilliantly illuminated by the light of the room and the occasional flashes of spells. Jisung’s face is stone, his body rigid as he stands by the door. If Hyunjin had to take a guess, he would say that the younger had been forced to watch this time around.

Hyunjin wishes he could say that he had been strong, that he did not break in front of the only person who believed in his tenacity. But the wand rises again, and in days following the only thing Hyunjin would remember from then is the pain. He is bleeding again, the only blessing is that his voice gives out quickly to save him from the sound of his own screaming.

Jisung watches as Hyunjin pleads for his own death, for mercy, for anything. Jisung watches as Madam Sela screams her rage at the boy half-dead at her feet. Jisung watches until he can no longer see, the tears in his eyes blurring and filling his vision until he is crying.

Hyunjin’s eyes meet Jisung’s. Glazed over as Hyunjin fights for consciousness, they’re feverish with desperation and wet with tears and blood. In a moment of disorientation, Hyunjin cries out, a raw, broken sound, as he sobs Jisung’s name.

It is too much. Now Jisung is running, all sense of self-preservation lost as he throws his own body in front of Hyunjin’s.

 _Stop it,_ he cries, shaken by the sight of nothing in Sela’s eyes, _stop it, you’re killing him, you’re killing him, can’t you see?_

Jisung doesn’t register the strong arms of other rebels dragging him off of Hyunjin. It’s Jisung’s turn to scream now, he spits curses through his tears at Sela, himself, anyone who will listen.

They pull him outside of the room, dragging him down the hallway towards the Great Hall. What they’re planning on doing to him, he doesn’t find out, because as soon as it occurs to Jisung to reach for his wand, the world explodes.

 

~~~~

 

Beyond the black, beyond the darkness in his mind, the outside world glows orange.

 _Is this death?_ Hyunjin wonders. The fires grow ever hotter, but Hyunjin couldn’t be in hell, because he had lived it, hadn’t he?

Hyunjin would have thought that he would have been more concerned, but all he feels is numbness as his overburdened body fails. In the far recesses of his mind, he registers people fleeing. He is abandoned. This saddens him; Hyunjin would have liked to not be alone as he dies.

 

~~~~

 

Jisung’s skin is burning and his eyes are on fire. He can register nothing but his entire world melting and god, it hurts.

He opens his mouth to scream, but chokes as the only thing he breathes in is hot, hot air that scorches his lungs. He can barely feel himself being pulled from flaming rubble, eyes overflowing with tears from the smoke. Jisung chokes again as he’s doused with water, its biting cold causing the burns on his skin to sting.

A voice above him, male and very pissed off, mutters something like, “should’ve left him to burn,” before shouting, “Changbin! I need you over here!”

Jisung can’t see. He can’t _see_. He tries to cry out again but it comes out as a strangled croak. Strong arms push him down, presumably to keep him from lashing out, but this only causes him to panic further.

“Calm down,” the voice says again, uncompassionate. “you’ll suffocate yourself, idiot. Just breathe, okay? Let me get the smoke out of your lungs.”

After a few hastily uttered spells from the voice, Jisung can finally inhale. Embarrassingly, the first word out of his mouth is _Hyunjin_ , followed quickly by _my eyes, I can’t fucking see_.

The owner of the voice doesn’t let go of his shoulders. “I told you to calm down, for fuck’s sake, now calm down.” He shifts away from Jisung and shouts, “Changbin, I swear to god if you don’t-”

“I’m here,” a new voice sounds from right behind Jisung’s head. He starts in fear and reaches for his wand only to find it missing. That’s unfortunate. Before Jisung can act, the newcomer - Changbin, presumably - places a hand on his shoulder. Jisung hisses in pain at the contact, he hadn’t noticed that his robes have been burned away.

“Relax,” Changbin says, “I’m not going to hurt you, which is saying a lot compared to some of your buddies over there. Can you turn around for me?”

Jisung complies, shrugging off the other man’s hands from his shoulders. His breathing hitches. “How much of Hogwarts is still standing?” he croaks, mind suddenly hyperfocused on one very important part of the castle, praying that it’s still whole.

“Why the hell would you care?” comes from the voice behind Jisung at the same time as Changbin’s “The Great Hall’s fucked- oh, shut up, Minho.”

Changbin murmurs a few spells that help clear Jisung’s vision while Minho elaborates. “Aside from the Great Hall and the East Tower, everything’s still standing. Unlike you, we aren’t really hell-bent on the destruction of-”

“That’s not it,” Jisung interrupts, blinking and rubbing his eyes to clear the blood and ash from them. He struggles to stand, stepping away from Minho and Changbin to view the scene unfolding before them. “I really hope you didn’t- oh, _god_.”

Whatever Jisung had been about to say dies on his lips as he stares dumbfounded at what once had been Hogwarts.

He’s standing a few paces away from what had once been the Great Hall and is now a pile of flaming rubble. Beyond that, the Ravenclaw tower stands aflame, and the Gryffindor tower is nowhere to be seen. The air smells of smoke and rings with the shouts of different fighters scattered across the grounds. Around them spells flash like cursed lightning, both verbal and nonverbal spellcasters showing no mercy with their magic.

The enemy has come to retake their home.

Jisung has no words. A quiet, quiet voice deep inside him sighs, _you caused this_.

A louder voice comes after. _Hyunjin is still in there._

“No,” Jisung’s voice is thick. He whirls back to where Minho is standing. Changbin is gone. “Where’s my wand,” Jisung demands, eyes wide. “I need it.”

Minho’s eyes are narrow, but he laughs. “What, do you think I’m stupid?” he coughs, and Jisung sees the dark stain spreading from under Minho’s ribs despite the other’s attempts to conceal it. “You and I are staying right here. Changbin”ll come back in a moment and take over babysitting duty while I go kick ass.”

Jisung can see Minho’s left hand hidden in his robe, fingers balled up clenching a wand, and decides he has nothing left to lose. “Listen to me,” he meets Minho’s eyes, striding forward until he’s a few feet away from the other. “The reason you’re here. You’re rescuing Hyunjin, right?”

In an instant Minho’s wand is out and staring Jisung in the face. “Don’t you fucking dare say his name,” he spits. “We know what you’ve been doing to him. You’re lucky you’re not already dead.”

Jisung raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I know where he is. Let me take you to him before it’s too late.”

Something in Minho’s expression falters, but his wand doesn’t waver. “Like you wouldn’t lead me to hell and back if it meant you got out of here alive. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand and save us from lugging your ass to Azkaban.”

If Jisung plays his cards right, he can get to Hyunjin in time. He prays that he’s not reading Minho wrong and takes another step forward, his stance radiating confidence. “Then kill me.”

He doesn’t miss the surprise that flits across Minho’s face. The other doesn’t answer.

Jisung takes another step forward until the tip of Minho’s wand is pressing into his chest. “Go ahead. Say it, I know you want to. Make me pay. Tie me in rope, cut me into pieces. What’s stopping you?”

Minho steps back. “Shut up,” he hisses. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You can’t do it,” Jisung says. Away from them, shouts from different people are getting louder. Jisung doesn’t want to bet against it being whatever-his-name-is and reinforcements. “Not because you don’t want to, but you actually can’t do it. You don’t have enough life left in you,” Jisung allows himself to laugh. “Your words are slurring, Minho, how long has that wound been bleeding? You might want to get that checked out.”

Minho makes the fatal mistake of dropping his gaze to the blood soaking his robe. It’s only a split second, but that’s more than enough time. Jisung steps around Minho’s wand at the same time he grabs Minho’s arm, twisting it so that Minho has no choice but to drop his wand into Jisung’s free hand. Minho cries out in a mix of surprise and anger, but that’s all he gets out before Jisung drops him to the ground with a single spell.

Jisung’s heart is beating out of his chest. He stares down at Minho’s body whose breathing is way too shallow. Jisung curses his conscience for not letting him just fucking run, but a quick spell reveals that Minho’s wound is cursed, and there’s no magic Jisung knows that he could use to help him. That’s probably why the other guy left, this thought occurs to Jisung rather lamely.

An explosion shatters the air behind him and Jisung whirls around to face the flames climbing ever higher. A scream rings out from somewhere on the battlefield.

 _Hyunjin_ , Jisung thinks. The fear and guilt he’d felt earlier makes its return, blood roaring in his ears. His breathing quickens. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, turning to Minho’s body. “I’m _sorry_.”

Minho, of course, doesn’t reply, and Jisung turns and runs.

 

~~~~

 

There’s a hand that reaches towards Hyunjin. Who it belongs to, he doesn’t know, but he wishes he could take it. He’s so cold.

 

~~~~

 

The flames in the sky rival those burning away at Jisung’s mind, and he wonders how much magic it took to get stone to burn like that.

The center of the blaze burns white-hot and Jisung can barely look at it. The flames are taller than the trees and by now almost the whole castle is ablaze. Jisung’s heart breaks for Hogwarts, but when he looks closer he sees that the main castle away from the towers and Great Hall are unharmed by the fires.

 _Clever bastards_ , Jisung thinks, despite his best efforts.

It’s hard. Using his stolen wand, Jisung manages to avoid contact with other attackers, but at this point he doesn’t know who those are.

He sees one of Sela’s lieutenants drop a boy no older than sixteen with a Cruciatus curse so violent Jisung can see his body convulse from fifty paces away. As soon as the man does it, though, he’s run through with three swords that seemingly come out of nowhere, summoned by a girl whose expression could be that of a maid taking care of a pesky mouse.

A few months ago, Jisung would have been in their place. He understands anger, he understands hate. But whenever he tries to summon those emotions in him to fight back, all he sees is Hyunjin contorted in pain, and he cannot.

 _How could you_ , he wants to shout at them, he wants to tell them that yeah, maybe kindness is slow, but violence isn’t _fucking worth it_.

Jisung can’t let the flames reach the inner halls. He will not let his friend die at the hands of something as archaic as this.

His breathing is ragged and he’s sure a few of his ribs are broken. His ankle cries out in protest whenever he steps on it, and it’s getting harder to see with the blood dripping into his eyes. But Jisung follows the trail of the fallen Great Hall to where buildings are still standing and retraces his steps.

The flames part with a few simple spells, and they die completely the deeper Jisung travels into the castle. It’s deserted, the few spots of fire left casting eerie shadows onto the walls.

Jisung limps as fast as he can while remaining quiet. He’s so close, he’s so close…

He rounds a corner to see the man from earlier. Changbin, right? Jisung doesn’t know his name, or if he’s dead or alive, but his body is slumped over in a corner surrounded by a pool of ominous dark liquid.

At the end of the hall sits Sela, cradling the still body of Hyunjin. She caresses his face, whispering something as she fusses with his hair.

Jisung feels sick to his stomach. He stands, trying to decide what to do; he’s not stupid enough to challenge Sela to a fight wounded. Hell, would he even fight her? What side was he on?

 _Whatever side it is, it’s not this_ , he thinks to himself, remembering the carnage outside.

Hyunjin isn’t moving. He’s not even conscious, and Jisung’s heart freezes at the utter stillness of his body.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Madam Sela croons, her voice almost inaudible. Her hands are covered in red, leaving scarlet tracks on Hyunjin’s face as she traces them across his cheeks. “Look at him. So fragile. Did you know his heart is still beating? Even after all of this, life still fights so bitterly, no matter how futile.”

“Stop,” Jisung’s voice breaks, “Stop it. Stop this, Sela.”

“All along, he has known he was going to die,” she continues, ignoring him, “and yet… while he begged for it in the beginning, he refuses to do so now.”

Jisung can’t move as he sees Sela’s left hand move slowly, slowly towards her robe to withdraw something shining silver.

“I promised us our freedom, did I not?” Her voice is quiet, but firm. “I have put you all through so much, put him through so much,” she lets Hyunjin’s body fall limply to the floor. “I cannot keep my promise to all, but I can make it true for this one.”

Sela’s feverish eyes meet his own. Her words are a whisper. “What would you pay for freedom, Jisung?”

The knife rises, glittering as it carves a path towards Hyunjin’s chest.

In an instant, Jisung’s wand is out, and the burst of green light that comes from it scares him almost as much as it scares Sela. Her face freezes in an expression of pure terror as her body spasms, then falls backwards dead.

Jisung’s breathing is ragged and the halls echo with his roar of the killing curse.

There is no time for thought, though, as Jisung runs and falls by Hyunjin’s side.

Sela was right, his heart is still beating, and Jisung can’t hold in his tears any longer.

He cradles Hyunjin’s body, his own convulsing with sobs as he repeats a broken mantra of _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry._

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Jisung whispers into bloodied robes, “I don’t care if they kill me, I don’t care, but you’re going to get better. Please, please forgive me.”

A hand weakly brushes through Jisung’s hair. He can barely hear the other’s whisper. “There’s… nothing to forgive.”

Jisung freezes, his heart breaking. “Oh,” he says, infinitely small. That’s it. Hyunjin hates him, Hyunjin’s going to die hating him, and Jisung’s a lost cause.

Hyunjin’s still fighting for breath, but he has enough energy to reach up and wipe some of the tears from Jisung’s face. “That’s not… what I meant,” He coughs. A wet, gravelly sound comes from his chest, but he ignores it. “I forgive you, Jisung, I…” He coughs again, “Look at me.”

Jisung raises his head, meeting Hyunjin’s eyes. They’re half-open and glazed over, but he doesn’t look away.

Hyunjin’s only conscious for a few more moments, but in his gaze is understanding. He _understands,_ for some grand fucking reason. And while Jisung may be the world’s worst candidate for mercy, if Hyunjin doesn’t hate him, then maybe there’s a chance for a traitor like him to make amends before all of this is over.

Jisung wipes away his tears. Using Hyunjin’s shallow breathing as motivation, he gathers his body into his arms and stands, carrying them both.

The fires are still burning around them, but they are alive.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have many things productive to say other than I have completely forgotten the floor plan of Hogwarts. someone help me I have no fucking idea where the dungeon is


End file.
